


You Feel Like Home

by BelovedPoison



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: AFTG Exchange, AFTG Fall Exchange 2020, Andreil, Cats, Fluff, Frottage, Guys kissing, Hugging, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Neil loves their cats, Sir and King deserve the world, Spoiled cats, and Neil and Andrew will give it to them, and with each other and their cats, as well as you can teach a cat manners anyway, but Andrew probably loves them more, but it's ok because they were taught manners too, but they deserve the world too, guys in love, handjobs, snapshots of their life with the fluffy terrors known only as Sir and King, soft andreil, these cats are SPOILED, they have it now!, things still get knocked over
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:34:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26293456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelovedPoison/pseuds/BelovedPoison
Summary: Neil hadn't been sure on getting cats at first. Andrew was certain and firm in his desire. Neil on the other hand, worried he'd be a terrible cat parent. Turns out though, Sir and King are great, owning cats is great, even when they look you dead in the eyes and knock shit off the table like a fluffy asshole. And surprisingly they work wonders with Andrew. Cats are the perfect pet for Andrew and Neil hasn't fucked anything up, and he's pretty sure they are the perfect blend of caring and asshole to fit into their life, so yeah cats are good and Neil loves every minute with them.So does Andrew but he'll stab anyone who isn't Neil that tries to say that. Seriously, ask Nicky, he knows.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 5
Kudos: 90
Collections: AFTG Exchange Fall 2020





	1. Snapshots and Snark

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for Captain-Ferid over on tumblr for the AFTG Fall Exchange 2020. I hope that you enjoy this! I had fun writing it, even if I'm still very unsure on the third chapter. I started writing something that actually contained 2 of your chosen prompts but it just kept growing and I am notoriously bad at finishing multi chapter things, so I'm still working on that one but knew it wouldn't be finished in time, and then this idea was born! 
> 
> So yes, I hope this is ok and fulfills your wishlist, when I am done with the other one, I will share that one too. Happy AFTG Fall Exchange!
> 
> THIS CHAPTER IS THE ONE THAT CONTAINS ADULT MATERIAL! I TRIED NOT TO GO INTO TOO MUCH DETAIL BUT IT'S THERE. PLEASE NOTE THIS. ALL FUTURE CHAPTERS ARE JUST FLUFF AND CATS.

Brushing his hair back out of his face despite the fact that there's already a bandana tied around his head to hold it out the way, Neil sighs. He's hot and sweaty and tired in that way that only a good run, even in the hot weather they are currently experiencing, can leave him. He's exhaustedly happy and takes the stairs up to their top floor apartment two at a time. He could take the elevator, but this is an extra work out for his legs and he's still a little too energised to stop now. He'll stop when he gets inside and not a second before.   
  
Fumbling, he slips the ring of keys from the pocket of his shorts, the short, bright ones that Andrew states emphatically he hates with every fibre of his being, but can't keep his eyes off Neil when he wears them. He unlocks the door and stumbles inside, slipping off his trainers as he goes and almost falling flat on his face.   
  
He looks up when there's no response to his rather graceless and noisy entrance and freezes in place. There sprawled on the sofa in nothing but a loose pair of dark grey sweatpants, is Andrew. It's not the lack of clothing or even the lack of arm bands that has Neil frozen in place though, it's the spoon held out lazily towards a happily purring Sir. Or rather what's ON the spoon. Because perched in Andrew's lap is a tub of the blonds triple chocolate ice cream.  
  
“Andrew!” Neil hisses, stalking over to them, ready to smack the spoon out of his hands if he has to. “Cat's are lactose intolerant, you can't give her ice cream!” he yelps, reaching for the spoon.  
  
Sir mewls loudly, indignantly and smacks out at him with a paw and the saddest look Neil has ever seen. He ignores it through sheer power of will and turns to Andrew.  
  
Andrew who is looking at him with faint exasperation. “You think I don't know that?” he drawls back.  
  
Neil can do little more than to wave at the tub of ice cream and fold his arms across his chest. Because he knows that Andrew must know that, Andrew knows just about everything about what their cats can and cannot eat, but he's still feeding Sir ice cream anyway. Finally, he unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth where it seems to have gotten caught and speaks.  
  
“And yet, you're still feeding my cat ice cream!” Another flutter at the scene that was just playing out in front of him in to prove his point.   
  
“Your cat? I wasn't aware we had his and his pets.” Andrew dips the spoon back into the pot, scrapes another spoonful and moves to hold it out towards Sir with one hand while waving the pot at Neil with the other. “Look again, she won't eat her special cat ice cream unless she thinks she's eating mine. So I put the pot inside of mine and feed her it.”  
  
Neil blinks, looks, looks harder and then sighs. He can see a smaller pot nestled inside the larger and definitely empty pint sized pot Andrew had clearly finished before feeding Sir. “You always say the cats are both mine when they misbehave,” he says matter of factly. “And besides, King is yours as you are so fond of reminding me and everyone else. So yeah Sir's mine. Also his and his? Really?”  
  
Andrew nods, the hint of a smirk growing on his lips as his gaze sweeps Neil from head to toe. He pulls the now empty spoon back and gives a slow roll of his shoulders, easing himself into a more comfortable position. “You're forgiven, but I think you should make it up to me. How do you plan to do that after accusing me of trying to poison our... oh I meant YOUR cat.”  
  
Neil grins. He's hot and tired and thirsty, but the way those hazel eyes rake all over his form, settling every time on the hem of his shorts and then the flash of scarred skin when he stretches himself out, causing his t-shirt to lift with the motion. Sir mewls for attention and Neil bends, scratching lightly at the top of her head and running his hand down her back. He sets his phone down on the table with Andrew's.  
  
“Oh I'll think of something. But I need a drink first.”   
  
“Hmmm, alright.”   
  
Andrew's voice is low and warm in a way that makes Neil feel like he's gone from over-heated to supernova. He turns to head into the kitchen and grab a bottle of water and stops, frowning as he searches the room for something he expected to see.   
  
“Where is King anyway?”  
  
Andrew turns back to the tv with a roll of his shoulders and a wave of his hand in the vague direction of the outside. “No idea. Probably out terrorizing the local dogs or something.”  
  
Neil laughs, because yeah, yeah that sounds about right to be honest. She's a pretty big cat and it wouldn't be the first time she's done that. Neil kind of hopes not though, he doesn't want a mean cat. Not that King IS mean but still. He wanders into the kitchen and there on the counter, the counter she's not supposed to be on, is King in all her fluffy glory. He stops his journey and moves over towards her, attempting to shoo her from the counter. She blinks up at him and calmly returns to cleaning herself.   
  
“King! Get down! You're being a bad girl.” He tries again, his efforts proving futile once more when she just leans forward to boop him with her nose as he tries to gently push her down.  
  
He laughs a second time, tired and too hot and utterly besotted by her cheeky mannerisms. Andrew says King is a lot like him, sassy and obnoxious but stupidly cuddly and right now, he's inclined to agree.   
  
“No, you don't get to be cute. Get down,” he snorts, reaching out for her this time and attempting to pull her into his arms.   
  
King meows loudly and darts away, across the damned counters and towards the salt and pepper pots they've managed to leave out. “No!” Neil yelps as he dives towards her, but she's faster and while looking directly at him, swipes a paw across the counter top and knocks the pepper pot off the side. It lands with a dull thud and a sweep of pepper that blooms up into the air.  
  
“Damn it King!” Neil grumbles, finally succeeding in chasing her from the kitchen.   
  
“What did she do this time?” comes Andrew's voice from the other room.  
  
Before Neil can answer, a tickly sensation hits his nose and he sneezes at the unexpected pepper that attacks his airways. He opens his mouth to speak and has to cover his nose to sneeze again. “Damn it! Your cat is a menace and an asshole,” he finally gets out, grabbing some damp kitchen roll and mopping up the small pepper spill. He puts the pepper pot back on the counter, washes his hands, grabs a bottle of water, FINALLY and walks back into the living room.  
  
“If she's being like that, she's your cat,” Andrew helpfully reminds him.  
  
Neil sighs. “Did you give her some ice cream too?” he asks curiously, head cocked to the side.  
  
Andrew scowls back, a faintly offended sort of look on his face and rolls his eyes, a soft huff leaving his lips. “Of course I fed her some. I fed her first. Kings come before Sirs Josten, don't you know how royal protocol works?”  
  
Neil's laughter is startled out of him, a fond gaze trained on a very serious looking Andrew. It's ridiculous and said with such certainty that he can't help but wheeze with the amusement suddenly burning through him. I mean it makes sense. Sir is a little quieter and content to wait her turn, King however demands what she wants when she wants it for the most part. But it still cracks him up to think of Andrew oh so very seriously spoon feeding their giant lump of a cat with the pomp and circumstance awarded to a member of a royal family.   
  
“Go away,” Andrew mutters without any inflection.  
  
Andrew's on the sofa, a cat beneath each hand and his head tilted back and to the side so he can stare over at him. Neil grins at the sight and takes a swig of his water, eyes slipping closed in bliss. He swallows it down greedily. Heavy gulps that leave him a little breathless until a warm, rough hand clamps around his wrist and pulls it back.   
  
“You'll choke. Breathe,” Andrew huffs, half way between exasperation and annoyance.   
  
Neil sucks in a sharp breath and sighs. Followed by another and then another until his breathing evens out and he watches Andrew watching him. “Drew,” he mumbles, fumbling to put the cap back on his water and drop it to the floor, half finished and forgotten.   
  
Andrew's hands slide up to cup at his face, hazel eyes searching his face for something, a knowing smirk twitching at the edges of his lips. He reaches out for him, fingers grasping carefully at his hips and Andrew steps into his space with a press of his mouth against Neil's own. Lips and teeth and tongues all touching, biting, sucking until Neil's not sure where he stops and Andrew begins and he's fairly sure he no longer cares to find out. They belong together and that's all he's interested in.  
  
After a moment, Andrew pulls away and shoves him lightly in the direction of the bathroom. Neil laughs. “Is that your way of telling me to shower?”  
  
“Yes. You stink, go get washed,” Andrew deadpans.  
  
“Wow, rude!” Neil sniggers, but he moves towards the bathroom, scooping up his bottle of water as he goes and taking much more controlled sips from it now. He turns the shower on, tossing his now empty bottle into the trash can and begins to strip off with a content sigh. Shoes, socks, top, all hit the floor with a soft thump, but just as he's about to finish getting undressed, the door swings open once more and Andrew stops in the doorway, gaze raking over his almost bare form.   
  
Neil chuckles and slips his tiny shorts down and off. He steps into the shower with a glance over his shoulder and Andrew moves towards him, to follow him probably, hopefully. But he's stopped by a loud yowl that is quickly joined by another as two furry bodies dart through the still slightly open doorway and into the bathroom. Neil laughs at the scowl on Andrew's face, slipping beneath the warm spray and sighing as relief washes over him both literally and figuratively.   
  
“No! Out you furry hellions! This is the bathroom, it's not for you,” Andrew hisses, making Neil's laughter ring around the room while he attempts to corral them and guide them out of the room. It's not working.   
  
“Laugh now, but if they don't get out, I'm not joining you,” Andrew grumbles, finally managing to scoop a squirming Sir up into his arms and start towards the door. “King! Out, now,” he demands as though she's a dog.   
  
King gives him her usual imperious look and leaps up delicately to sit on the closed toilet lid and begin to lick her leg with complete nonchalance. Neil is almost breathless from how hard he's suddenly laughing and when Andrew turns a dark glare on him, he practically doubles over with the force of it, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. It's nothing new, nothing particularly funny but he just can't stop laughing anyway. Full bodied laughs that wrack through his system like fire over wood.  
  
Andrew's scowl darkens, and Neil can't help a fond grin slipping onto his face while the laughter dims to light chuckles. He acts so annoyed by their antics, but in about 5 minutes he'll be seated on the sofa, both cats in his lap, feeding them more cat ice cream or some other treat most likely. It fills him with a sense of peace and warmth that has nothing to do with the heat from the shower water and everything to do with Andrew just being, well Andrew.   
  
Neil reaches for the shower gel just as Andrew finally gets both cats out of the room and slams the door shut on their soft mewls of complaint.   
  
“Amused Josten?”   
  
Neil shrugs, because honestly, yes he is. Very much so and Andrew knows it too. He's not really angry though, Neil knows that so it's okay. “Maybe I just like watching you herd them like tiny fluffy sheep.”   
  
Andrew frowns. “King is bigger than the neighbours dog,” he says with a sigh. One that says ' _don't be an idiot Neil_ ' but maybe also adds very quietly ' _you're still_ _ **my**_ _idiot though_ '.  
  
He leans against the tile behind him, hissing softly at the cool ceramic against his warm skin and looks over at Andrew, holding out the shower gel he hasn't begun to use yet in offering. “You said something about joining me?”  
  
Andrew raises an eyebrow, takes a step forward and grips the hem of his t-shirt. In one swift move, he pulls it up, off and tosses it to the side. “Did I? Hmm, well I guess if I said so, I'll just have to endure this then.”   
  
Neil let's out a little snicker, eyes glued to Andrew's bared torso. Andrew doesn't acknowledge his look, or at least pretends not to and strips off his sweatpants and boxers in a slow, teasing motion that makes Neil's mouth go dry, laughter all but forgotten now.   
  
“There you go staring again,” Andrew complains, but walks towards him anyway.   
  
Neil stares unapologetically and hums. “No one said I couldn't. Not even you, you tell me I'm doing it, but you never said stop.”  
  
Andrew huffs in reply and steps into the shower behind him. “Lucky for you then,” he tells him, snagging the bottle from his hand and pressing soft open mouthed kisses to the back of his neck.  
  
Neil lets Andrew manhandle him into position, soap slick hands running over his back and trailing over his skin. He sighs and leans into his touch, eyes closed and heavy breaths leaving his lips. Soothing fingers and rough palms cleanse the sweat and general grime from his skin and Neil feels like he could just collapse right here. Andrew's touch is slow, methodical and utterly and completely intimate without being any kind of sexual, it eases the slight tension in some of his muscles and his mind. It's wonderful, especially when Andrew rests his head against his shoulder and slides his hands around to run the soap over his chest and stomach. He could just melt right now, and vaguely wonders if he in fact is, because he feels so relaxed after his run and now there's this.   
  
He could just stay in this moment forever, but all too soon, the bottle is pressed into his hand and those hands withdraw, much to his intense displeasure. “Rude, I was comfy there,” he complains, turning to face Andrew with an only slightly faked pout.  
  
“Share and take turns Josten,” Andrew shoots back looking as calm and almost bored as ever. Though there's a tiny hint of a twinkle in his eyes that makes it clear he's amused right now.  
  
Neil tips some gel into his hands and reaches towards Andrew, who takes a quick, small step forwards. This time it's his hands tracing over smooth skin and scars alike. Over every bump of raised flesh, every swell of muscles toned from their joint career. And then Andrew's arms are tight around his waist. He hears the thud of the shower gel falling somewhere behind him, but it's all background noise. A dull thing that no longer holds any weight when Andrew's fingers are inching carefully up his back.   
  
He slips his arms around Andrew's shoulders, bodies flush against each other now and dips his head just that tiny bit. Immediately Andrew closes the tiny gap and slots his mouth against Neil's with a ghost of breath that might have been a sigh or might have been a whisper of his name. It doesn't matter either way, because the way their mouths move with each other is fire and bliss and comfort and home, home, home. Sure and firm, Andrew presses against him in the knowledge that this is always yes no matter how many times Neil says it. That he can take this as much as he wants and Neil will give him that with everything he has. That he can ask when he needs to, but it will still be a yes, because Neil wants this more than anything.  
  
And suddenly it's hot breath against his throat, fingers running over water slick skin and tongues a languid twist over and over that makes Neil's stomach tighten, his heart race in his chest.Hands tangled in hair and tugging, lips moving over every inch of skin they can reach. Firm presses here, and soft sweeps there.   
  
It's slick tongues against slicker skin, warm fingers inching downwards, sharp nips of teeth, Neil's hands tugging at Andrew's hair now and Andrew's fingers curling around him in response. It's cool tiles against his back yet again when he's pushed against them, heavy breaths that are swallowed into open mouthed kisses, and Andrew's body pressed tight against his own. It's all desperate rolls of their hips, bodies moving in perfect synch and quiet desperation and shudders that leave them both panting.   
  
And then before he knows it, it's Andrew's hand wrapped around him, moving with precise motions that have only one purpose in mind. To get Neil off in torturously slow and utterly wonderful ways that leave him weak in the knees and breathless against him.  
  
“Oh, oh Drew that...” He can't even finish that sentence. His blood is racing through his veins and he's close, so close.  
  
Andrew's body is crowded up against him and he can't keep himself still, hands grasping and squeezing at a firm, round ass, pulling him closer. Andrew grinds against his thigh, lips once more warm and soft and oh so pliant. Neil shifts, mimicking Andrew's actions, fingers tight around each other, thumbs pressing with purpose on the upwards slide, he strokes Andrew with quick, needy touches that leave the blond attempting to repeat his words against his shoulder.   
  
“Fuck! Neil that... Close,” he hums, sucking red marks against his collarbone, his neck, his chest.  
  
Neil moans back, hands working harder, faster and Andrew's copy the movements perfectly. His pulse thrums through his veins, rushes with such force that there's the faint whoosh of it in his ears. He lets out a low moan, lips moving to suck red marks against Andrew's throat now. The blonds response is heavy puffs of air against his skin, the tighter grasp of the hand gripping at his hip and a brutal pace that leaves Neil feeling like he's about to float away.  
  
“Ah! An... Drew. Andrew I, that, oh gods!” He all but whimpers then, roughly pushing his hips into Andrew's hand.  
  
“Come on,” Andrew mumbles back, another red mark imprinted into his skin.  
  
Neil jerks sharply and spills into Andrew's hand with a nip to his shoulder and a firm slide of his palm, that he repeats with tenacity. Andrew presses closer to him, the warm splatter of the shower running over their sensitive flesh and with his forehead resting on Neil's shoulder, thrusts his hips into Neil's hand and spills a few moments later against both their stomachs.   
  
He mouths against his collarbone again and lets out a stuttered groan and a softly muttered, “Shit!”  
  
Neil stays there, with Andrew's heated skin against his front and still slightly cool tiles against his back. With his hands sliding over Andrew's back, just holding him close while they come down from their high. Andrew's own hands return to his hips, fingertips dancing over his skin and both of their eyes closed.   
  
Neil feels so content that he doesn't ever want to move, but sadly all too soon, Andrew pulls back, and huffs out a soft breath. “Get dried off, I'm tired now,” he grumbles, shoving at Neil slightly.   
  
He laughs and moves to give himself one more quick rinse and then steps out of the shower. “Fine, but only if we get to snuggle afterwards.”   
  
Andrew's only reply is a narrow eyed glare and a wave of his hand that says neither yes nor no. Neil knows it's a yes anyway and he snorts, surprised that Andrew didn't complain about the word he used deliberately to annoy him. He towels off with quick, rough brushes of the clothe over his hair and skin and then plods back into the bedroom, almost tripping over the cats and dropping the towel from around his waist as he does so.   
  
By the time he's dressed in oversized sweats and a loose t-shirt, Andrew is digging through the closet for his own clothes, a looseness to his back and shoulders that Neil hasn't seen in a while. He likes that they are on a break from practice and games and he's currently making the most of it. It's a really good look on him Neil thinks.   
  
He walks into the living room once more, flops down onto the couch and is immediately assaulted from both sides by fluffy bundles of attention seeking noise. He laughs, smoothing both of their heads and just melts into the couch cushions, waiting for the moment when Andrew will come in and finish their routine of rest, relaxation and reading.   
  
When he does, it's with a book in hand and an expression that's just a little softer than completely blank. Neil blinks up at him and grins. Andrew rolls his eyes but flops onto the sofa, spreads his legs and tugs at Neil's sleeve to pull him down. Neil releases the cats and goes willingly. He shifts to lean back, Andrew's chest to his back and squirms until he's comfortable. Andrew's leg are wrapped around his own, a tangled mess of comfort, one arm draped over his shoulder, the other already holding open his book. Neil rests his head against Andrew's chest and stretches out a hand.  
  
Immediately Sir climbs up his body and curls up on his chest with a deep, rumbling purr. King on the other hand, stalks around, meows in complaint and then flops down against Andrew's shoulder, half resting on him and half on the couch arm.   
  
Neil feels a sense of peace wash over him and absently reaches out for the phone he'd left on the side earlier and opens it to the camera app. Apparently they needed better phones now, so he'd accepted it but he rarely used much on it, except to text or take photos of the cats.  
  
“What are you doing?” Andrew asks, his voice a low mumble as Neil holds up the phone above their heads.   
  
“Taking a photo.”  
  
Andrew frowns, glares up at the phone and then back down at Neil before he rolls his eyes and simply continues reading the book out loud. His voice is a soft hum that makes Neil feel warm and a little sleepy. He shifts the camera a little, adjusting the angle to get as much of their comfy pose in as he can. Him between Andrew's legs, Andrew's fingers lightly massaging at his shoulder, King content around Andrew's shoulders, Sir lovingly curled up on top of him, it's an image he never wants to forget. This is one of the reasons he loves taking photos, memories that he's captured can be brought back into startling focus. The other reason, is that there's proof that this isn't all some fever dream or a wish. This is real and he gets to hold onto this.  
  
He grins at the camera, catches the way Andrew glances up with the cool gaze he's so famous for, something Neil has really kind of grown to love and clicks the focus, takes the shot. It's saved.  
  
Andrew stops reading for a minute, stares at the screen and then drops his book to grasp at Neil's wrist and slides a thumb over the screen. Opening that app Nicky insisted he get, the one his team and his PR person confirmed he should get and also use.   
  
“Post it,” Andrew says, his voice dropped even lower than before.   
  
Neil twists slightly, almost dislodging both King and Sir and blinks at him. “Huh?” he questions in confusion.   
  
“It's good,” Andrew says simply as if that's all it needs. Then adds, “They said we had to post more, it's in our contracts, unfortunately. Post it, tag me.”   
  
His smile feels like it's splitting his face in two then and he quickly presses to upload the image before Andrew changes his mind. He taps out a quick title that simply says ' _domestic bliss_ ', listens to Andrew's huff of complaint at that one, tags Andrew's account like Allison had showed him and then laughs when Andrew presses the send button.   
  
Responses start flooding in right away, but he closes the app, turns off his phone and settles down once more to listen to Andrew as he picks right back up where he left off and all four of them ignore the world once again.


	2. Handholds and Catnaps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not one of THOSE nights for Andrew, but it's still not the greatest of nights for him. Neil works hard to make it better though and Sir and King work their magic and fix the sharp edges he can't quite smooth out. Maybe it's not such a bad night after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So um here, the second chapter. Not much else so say except I hope this chapter is ok. Honestly it's probably my fav. You'll see why when you read it, maybe. lol

Neil awakes with a start later that night and glances around. He doesn't dare fumble or stretch out for something, because there's a chance he'll smack Andrew and that will just be bad for both of them. Except, as he blinks into the darkened room, noting it's definitely still night, he realises the side of the bed next to him is cool and empty. Silent as the grave. He sighs. That's not good.  
  
Shivering, he slips out of bed, tugs on the nearest hoodie he can find, Andrew's not his and pads down the stairs and into the living room. There's no light to guide his way, no sound to indicate where anything, or anyone, is. But that's fine, because he doesn't need it, this has been their space for a while now and he's long since become accustomed to wandering around in socked feet and warm sweats in winter or basically nude in the clammy heat of summer.  
  
So it's not even the slightest surprise to him when he finds a darker than usual shadow hunched over on the couch. He stops in the doorway, leaning back against it, arms folded across his chest and just watches Andrew for a moment. There are bad nights and just sleepless ones. The posture that Andrew adopts on the sofa or whether he's out on the balcony, cigarette in one hand and double shot of whisky in the other let's him know easily which it is. This is a sleepless one.  
  
Not great, but not a bad night. And that's something to be glad of. He nods to himself and makes his way into the kitchen, quietly and efficiently moving through the room and grabbing things from the cabinets. Hot chocolate with whipped cream and sprinkles for Andrew, herbal tea for himself. The kettle whistles merrily in the near darkness and Neil can't help but fidget as he waits.  
  
A soft brush against the back of his leg has him glancing down and he spots King, mouth stretched wide around a soft and plaintive mewl. Whether she's annoyed at being woken or just complaining there's no one to curl up on, he's not sure. But it's cute all the same.  
  
He'd been wary of getting them at first. Certain that he would muck up somehow, perhaps he'd forget to feed them, trip over them and hurt them maybe, maybe they wouldn't even like him, but then he'd seen Andrew with them and all that flew out the window. Well that and he realised that Andrew was essentially a cat but in human form. He liked to be touched and held, but on his own terms, he WOULD absolutely bite you (stab you) if you tried to do that against his will, and he seemed cool and aloof most times, but was fairly affectionate sometimes. Well that and he would headbutt you for attention sometimes. Sure it had only been that one time, but still, it had been a very cat like action. So yeah, as far as he's concerned, Andrew is a cat.  
  
He reaches down, stroking King's head and running his fingers over her fluffy ears before he stands up abruptly when the kettle announces it's finale. “Sorry girl, duty calls,” he murmurs to her, rinsing his hands and setting about making up their drinks. King gives a disgusted huff, sticks her tail in the air and sauntersaway as though offended. And honestly, she probably is. She certainly lived up to her name and thought she was royalty after all.  
  
Once he's done with the drinks, he wanders back into the living room, places the mugs down on the coffee table and curls up as close to Andrew as possible without actually touching him.  
  
“What do you need?” he whispers, icy blue eyes locked directly onto Andrew's frozen form.  
  
He's dressed all in black and he looks more like a shadow than the actual shadows. Well he would if he didn't have that shock of pale blond hair on top of his head anyway. Andrew's head rolls to the side, eyes heavily lidded and dark as he gazes back at him. His gaze is a listless for a second before he hums softly and blinks to focus.  
  
“You,” he states simply, a hand reaching out to grasp at Neil's wrist and tug his hand towards him. Idly the blond slides his hand down, Neil's hand held firmly in his and a thumb stroking over the simple silver band on his ring finger.  
  
Neil remains silent, lets Andrew have what he needs before he says or does anything. He just follows the way those fingers stroke over the silvery band in a never ending pattern of touch and what he's pretty sure is relaxation for Andrew.  
  
“Can't believe you wear this to bed,” Andrew finally says with a gentle tug of Neil's hand.  
  
Neil grins back, because honestly, Andrew didn't really expect anything else did he? He gave Neil a key and called it home and then he gave him a ring and called it forever. And that means he's going to wear it until he can't any more.  
  
“I wear it everywhere,” he replies immediately.  
  
Andrew pauses for a second, seeming to think that one other and then huffs. “Yeah, but you can't wear it during games.”  
  
“I can and I do,” Neil replies because whether it's around his neck, resting against his heart or on his finger where Andrew had put it and where it belongs, he's not taking it off for longer than it takes to switch between the two.  
  
And yeah he knows it's stupid, dangerous even, but he's careful and he keeps it taped in place so it doesn't move during play and the armour protects him. He's fine. Andrew will argue otherwise he's sure, but he just can't leave it alone.  
  
“I know,” Andrew replies, because of course he does. Andrew knows everything about him, there's no such thing as secrets between them any more. He slips a hand up to the silver chain around his neck and pulls it out from under his t-shirt while uncurling from his bunched up pose and stretching out a little more. There dangling on the shimmering chain, is an identical ring to his own.  
  
Neil smiles, fingers reaching out, but stopping just short of actually touching it, because it's not Andrew and touch is something they've long grown used to, but it's one of THOSE nights and that means old habits arise. “Can I?” he whispers.  
  
Andrew nods, and Neil curls his palm around the ring, gives a gentle tug to the chain it's attached to before he spins it around until the word etched onto the inner side is visible. He can feel Andrew watching him, but he can't take his eyes off it right now. He hums and then shoots his husband a crooked grin. It's not his ' _I'm about to fuck shit up_ ' smirk or even his ' _Butcher smile_ ', it's something entirely different, something only Andrew ever gets to see. A sort of tired, soft grin that he knows Andrew can read as content, because there etched into the silver band in flowing cursive is the word ' _Always_ '. Something only he and Andrew know is there.  
  
Andrew's fingers pull at his own ring and he nods as Andrew slides it off his finger and into his palm. He grips it between two fingers, holding it up like a jeweller with a precious jewel and he can see the moment that Drew's eyes land on the word written on his in the same script. ' _Home_ ' it says simply.  
  
They'd picked those words specifically for what the other meant to them. For Neil it's because Andrew is that to him. He's home, safety, acceptance, wherever he is, is where Neil wants to be. It's what has the most meaning to him. Andrew is it for Neil, he may not be good at this kind of thing or that knowledgeable, but he knows with certainty that even if he someday finds someone else attractive, what Andrew offers him is something he'll never find again, so he's not only home, but also his heart. Exy is his soul, but Andrew is everything else. He's his life, his place of peace and belonging.  
  
Andrew's is for everything Neil has been and still is to him. It's 'A _lways'_ because that's what Neil offers him in return. It's 'A _lways'_ because he never fails to listen to him and back off right away when he says no, always he's respected every one of Andrew's boundaries, even right from the start. He's given him something no one else ever had and it's because he's always interested in him and in return, Andrew is, despite what'd said once upon a time, always interested in Neil. He always wants him.  
  
He glances up at Andrew, hand moving up the chain but careful not to touch just yet and asks him a silent question. A dip of his head, a gentle nod in reply and Neil unclips the chain slowly, taking the ring off of it and holding it in his hand. He clips the necklace back into place, hazel eyes studying him carefully the whole time, but content to let this thing play out between them soundlessly.

He moves his hand down towards Andrew's and this time he does ask. “Is it a yes?”  
  
Andrew's response is a simple lift of his hand, fingers splayed out towards him. Slowly, Neil pushes the ring into place, slotting it onto Andrew's finger with as little touching as possible. The look he gets from that action is calm, calculated but with a hint of warmth shining in the depths of those amber toned eyes.  
  
“Your turn,” Andrew says, dropping his hand to pluck Neil's ring from his own palm and holding it up towards him.  
  
Neil tilts his head to the side and mimics Andrew's previous posture. Andrew's touch is more careful than his own, but also more substantial. He doesn't hesitate to touch him, hands warm and firm against him and he slides the ring on with complete precision. He pulls back once he's done and Neil twists it just a tiny bit to ensure that the writing is nestled completely against the underside of his finger. It always feels more real somehow, more like it's settled closer to his skin, the word almost etched onto his body and not just his ring when it's pressed against him that way.  
  
Andrew's mouth is cocked onto the faintest of grins and he nudges Neil with an elbow to his shoulder. “You're an idiot,” he huffs.  
  
Neil laughs. “Maybe, but I'm **your** idiot.”  
  
Andrew's reply is a little slower in coming, but when it does, it's worth a million loud words and lavish gestures. It's worth so much more despite it's complete and utter simplicity. “Yes,” he states firmly, Neil's hand grasped in his own once more, both of them resting on Andrew's lap.  
  
And that's when the peace and their low voices are shattered by a very plaintive 'meow!' and the launching of a heavy cat into Andrew's lap. Sir flops with a pleased purr and Andrew gives out a low 'oooof!' when she drops against him.  
  
“I think the girls want to join in too.” Neil laughs, stretching out a hand to run down Sir's back. “Maybe we should get them a little ring to go on their collars too.”  
  
Apparently his joke falls a little flat, because Andrew turns that blank stare on him that very clearly says ' _No_ ' without him actually saying a word. He drops his head back to rest on the back of the couch, looking a little tired and a whole lot lazy and just watches Neil for a second.  
  
“Drink are getting cold,” Neil tells him.  
  
Andrew wiggles his fingers and makes a grabby motion. Neil laughs softly, watching his other hand rhythmically slide through Sir's fur and over her head and grabs Andrew's drink first. He places it in his palm and watches Andrew take a sip. Any remaining tension he'd held is washed away in a sea of calm from the cat in his lap and the horribly sugary concoction in his other hand. Neil knows he'll never understand how Andrew can stomach such a mess of sugar and things, but it doesn't matter, because seeing the way he relaxes with something like that in his hand, the way he very almost looks, well for Andrew he looks happy, is worth just about anything.  
  
He snags his own drink off the side and takes a drink, humming at the sharp, fruity flavour that hits his taste buds. He shifts until his side is pressed firm and warm against Andrew's, both of their hands stroking a loudly purring Sir and occasionally bumping into each other. It's nice, which of course means that something has to happen to come along and ruin it, just a little.  
  
King leaps onto the table and spots the ashtray there, mostly empty since Andrew still doesn't smoke in the middle of the room usually and stretches out a paw. Neil moves to stop her, but Andrew beats him to it.  
  
“King you fluffy little shit, I swear if you push that off the table, there will be no catnip for an entire month.” He doesn't raise his voice, it's just a soft but firm tone and a glare levelled in her direction.  
  
King meows sadly and then stands up. Neil catches what she's about to do right before she does it. She launches herself up to the top of the couch and Neil ducks just in time to avoid a smack to the face with a tail. He frowns and tilts his head up to see her as she sits herself down placidly and begins to clean herself in a very dignified manner.  
  
“She's your cat,” Andrew mutters in complaint.  
  
Neil glares back and shakes his head. “No, she's yours, she's being an asshole.”  
  
His grin is met with the faintest of twitches of Andrew's lips and a tired huff. It's enough for now. Andrew is, happier? Neil supposes that's the word for it, though maybe it's more like feeling a sense of peace, kind of. Andrew leans his head against King's side and she starts to purr, a louder, deeper sound than Sir's, heavy and almost protective sounding somehow. It must work for Andrew too, because even though his gaze is turned toward Neil, his eyes are half closed and ever more tension is easing rapidly out of his shoulders and the rest of him.  
  
Getting cats was probably one of the best things they'd ever done. It seemed to calm Andrew in a way even he couldn't. Andrew cared about him, had to or he wouldn't have married him, but the cats gave him another thing to live for, something that seemed to complete both their lives.  
  
“You're an asshole,” Andrew finally mutters, mostly under his breath.  
  
Neil snorts and rests his forehead against Andrew's, a deep breath heaved out of his lungs as he does so. Andrew doesn't pull away, even when King begins winding herself along the back of the sofa, rubbing her side against both of them, still purring away blissfully. She obviously likes this, and since Sir is pushing up against the hand Andrew is still petting her with, she does too.  
  
Neil's not sure who likes it the most though. Him, Andrew or the cats. But he's willing to take a guess and say that right now at least, Andrew probably likes it the most. He seems so much more relaxed since the cats decided to snuggle attack them that Neil's pretty sure he can't compete with that right now. Not that he even wants to.  
  
Andrew's fingers move to grasp at his hair and Neil moves forward willingly when he's tugged and then there are warm lips pressed against his. He closes his eyes, let's Andrew take control with a swipe of his tongue and a soft nip to his lower lip, keeps his hands firmly to himself until told otherwise. Andrew's mouth is hot and welcome against his own. His tongue leaving Neil shivering at the way it brushes against his own, running over every inch of his mouth. And yeah so maybe he moans just a little, finding himself wishing those lips were pressed hard and heavy against his neck instead.  
  
But then they're pulled apart, panting breathlessly by a complaining meow and a swat to the tops of their heads from a clearly disgruntled King. Neil laughs, content and happy when he glances over at Andrew and catches the faintly amused and fond look that's just barely visible on his face.  
  
“King says no sucking face when she's here,” Neil jokes, reaching up to stroke a hand over her head.  
  
“Hmm, guess we should retire to the bedroom and lock the door on her then,” Andrew shoots back.  
  
If Neil didn't know better, he'd think Andrew was stating his intentions for something much more than kissing. But he can still see the last hints of the tired night he's having and sex is the last thing on either of their minds. And that's fine for him, he just wants Andrew to get some sleep. He looks like he could really use it and even if he doesn't sleep, lying down in a dark room, surrounded by safety and with Neil at his side, hopefully he can at least relax a little.  
  
He gets up, hand reaching out for Andrew's, fingers automatically rubbing over the silver band nestled on his left hand and grins. He tugs and Andrew pokes at Sir, who yowls in complaint but leaps from his lap and bats tiredly at his leg.  
  
“You'd never lock them out,” Neil tells him, smile tired but still bright.  
  
Andrew rolls his eyes, glances back at the cats and links their fingers together. “Don't tempt me,” he says shooting them both a look and turning to lead Neil to their room.  
  
True to what Neil knew he'd do, he pushes the door almost closed, but leaves a small gap and strips his t-shirt off to expose his bare chest. He watches as he slides into bed, back to the wall and hazel eyes locked onto him. Neil throws off the hoodie he'd put on and slips between the sheets himself. Before he can even settle himself, the padding of paws across the exposed floorboards sounds and then the whoomph of a small but somewhat heavy jumping onto the bed beside them is there, followed quickly by another larger body.  
  
Andrew hums, looking thoughtful and twines their fingers together before tugging sharply. Neil shifts over a little and then Andrew flops, face buried against his neck, interlocked fingers brought to rest against Neil's chest and one of Andrew's legs tangling with his own.  
  
Neil let's his eyes drift closed, allows Andrew to fidget just a tiny bit and then settle half draped over him. He tugs the sheets up over them, covering most of their bodies. The purring starts up immediately, a fluffy body drops to the mattress, pressed tight against Andrew's back and Neil feels him relax a little more and then the noise grows louder. There's paws pressing and kneading against his blanket covered stomach. He opens his eyes just enough to see Sir turn in a circle and then sink down curled in the triangle created by Andrew's side, his lifted up arm and Neil's own stomach. The deep rhythmic sound makes him feel sleepy and content, and seems to ease the last little bit of strain from Andrew's body.  
  
Eyes closed he squeezes Neil's hand, takes an extra deep breath and promptly goes boneless against him, calmed by the soothing sounds of their cats announcing their contentment to be pressed so close to the both of them.  
  
Neil smiles, the hand wrapped around Andrew's shoulders running lightly through the shorter hairs at the base of his neck and tries to will himself into sleep if Andrew's trying to. Getting Sir and King was and still is, quite possibly the best idea they've ever had. Andrew just seems so much more comfortable since they've come into their lives.  
  
He let's himself drift, safe in the knowledge that tonight's bad night is, if not completely gone, at least manageable for Andrew now. He's not completely sure who has the biggest effect on the blond though, him or the purring cats. He thinks it's probably them, but then Andrew presses a languorous kiss to his throat and nuzzles his face against that same spot, the one he'd marked earlier while in the shower and he thinks maybe it's all three of them after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my HC for them now. Whenever I write them married, those words will be written on their rings. Maybe in some AU's they'll get them tattooed on their skin instead if they don't married, but it will forever be Home and Always to me for them. It's just the perfect words for them to have etched on their bands or into their skin and you can't convince me otherwise!


	3. Walk but Don't Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Neil needs to run, sometimes he just needs to walk, to get out in the fresh air. But not because anything is wrong just to get out and do something different. And sometimes, he's not the only one who wants to go out for a walk. Despite what Andrew often says though, the only ones who require a leash are Sir and King and NOT him in fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and uh here we go! The final chapter. I'm still very unhappy with this one, won't lie. BUT this is the end of the story and damn it I'm not skimping out on anyone. 
> 
> So once again Captain-ferid, happy AFTG Fall Exchange 2020, I hope all of this was to your liking somehow!
> 
> PS: Some of the cats behaviour in this chapter is based on my own fluffy little madam, Silver Bullet (or just Bullet) who appears to believe she is more dog than cat sometimes. (she also fetches the mail which is adorable btw) Just saying. lol

By the time Andrew is recovered from his sleepless night, Neil finds himself with a need to get out. Not to run. Not that burning, stinging itch that crawls under his skin, the absolute need to run until his lungs are aching and his heart's racing in his chest, until his knees hurt and his legs collapse beneath him. But a need all the same. It's a mild irritant. He loves curling up in their place with Andrew and the cats, but it's been literal days since he last left and he feels that desire to go out and stretch his legs for just a little while. Just a short journey, anywhere will do, but he wants to go out.   
  
He doesn't want to leave without Andrew though. Some time together outside of the apartment will do them both good. Or so Matt keeps telling him. He is used to going out and working off his energy though, so even on a break, just resting the entire time isn't something he can do. But when he stumbles down the stairs and into the living room, he's not sure how to voice this. Andrew would quite happily stay away from people probably forever. But it's not like Neil wants to deal with them either, he just wants to go somewhere for a brief change of scenery.   
  
As always, Andrew's head snaps up from his mug of coffee, hazel eyes searching his face for something even Neil's not sure of. Whatever he sees there makes him set his mug down and hold a hand out to Neil. He steps forward, takes his hand and sinks into the space beside him, since his lap is currently filled with two very large, fluffy cats who both mew in protest at all the movement. It's a good feeling.   
  
“What do you want?” Andrew asks with a tilt of his head to rest against the back of the sofa.  
  
Neil smirks. He almost always seems to know when Neil wants or needs something. He shrugs and turns to rest on his side, also resting his head on the sofa back. “How long have you been psychic?” he teases instead.  
  
Andrew scoffs at the mere suggestion of it. “Why are you so easy to read?” he shoots back.  
  
“Only to you.”  
  
“Still easy.”  
  
Neil thinks on that for a second, chews on his lower lip until a hand reaches out and a thumb rubs against his lip until he releases it. “Let's go out,” he finally replies. “Just for a while.”  
  
“Where?” Andrew asks with a slight frown.   
  
“Anywhere,” Neil replies, waving a hand to indicate literally anywhere.   
  
Andrew hums for a moment, fingers sliding through King's fur and making her purr loudly in contentment. “OK, let's go the park.”  
  
Neil grins broadly. He knows what that means. Andrew hates the park. It's too crowded. Too noisy. Too full of people. All things Andrew has a serious dislike for unless it's Eden's or somewhere similar. King and Sir however, LOVE it.   
  
“Are you doing this just so people will pay more attention to them than you?”  
  
Andrew rolls his eyes then. “Obviously,” he says, shifting in his seat and shoving lightly at the cats in his lap.   
  
King stretches, rolls over and gets comfy again, while Sir gets down with a disgruntled huff and a sneeze that very clearly says ' _I am displeased seat. You have dislodged me far too soon!_ '  
  
Neil sniggers as Andrew starts trying to shove King, rather more carefully than most people would expect, off his lap. She flicks her tail in irritation and then finally hops down while Andrew grumbles under his breath and flicks at Neil's forehead in retaliation of his laughter.   
  
“Keep laughing and you can leave this house on your own,” he snaps.   
  
Neil knows he won't though, so it's fine. “Okay.” He gives him a cheeky grin just for extra annoyance.  
  
Andrew's only response after that is a dark look, but he peels himself off the sofa, and walks to the small closet by the doorway. Neil watches in amusement as he whistles and suddenly both cats are racing towards him and winding around his legs, meowing up at him loudly. It makes him smile at the sight of it, especially when Andrew is hissing at them to ' _sit the fuck down you furry little bastards!_ ' and ' _hold on, I can't do both of you at the same time patience for fucks sakes!_ '   
  
“Do you need a hand?” Neil chirps playfully.  
  
“Catch,” is all Andrew says before he tosses a harness straight at him.  
  
Neil catches it with perfect precision and steps forward, reaching for Sir. She trots over and plops down in front of him before rolling around very unhelpfully. She wants to go out, they always love when they get to go for walks but she never makes it easy. Neil sighs. He crouches down, attempting to carefully manhandle her into the harness while she wiggles in happiness and Andrew's muttered complaints fill the air. It feels good to be thinking about leaving the house and all of them being able to get some proper fresh air.   
  
Finally done, he slips his shoes on and moves over to Andrew. “Ready?” he asks with a grin.  
  
“Not in the least, this hellion is already driving me crazy,” Andrew replies, but there's the ghost of a grin twitching at the edges of his lips and Neil knows he's content. He likes doing this, it gives him an excuse to glare at people and flip them the bird for staring. He never likes the staring itself but the results of it amuse Andrew and in turn amuse Neil even more.   
  
“Okay, well looks like we're going anyway.” He points to where both King and Sir, now fully ready for their park walk, are seated facing the door, tails flicking impatiently behind them. He shoots a grin to Andrew and gets an eye roll in response.   
  
“You owe me a coffee,” Andrew states simply, grabbing King's leash and stepping out of the door.   
  
Neil glances behind him at the no doubt now cold coffee and shrugs. Yeah, sure he kinda does and that's fine. He grabs Sir's leash when she meows at him and follows behind her plump little body as she trots along happily. They take the elevator down to the ground floor, the cats mewing and complaining that they are once more confined the entire time. Somehow, it makes Neil smile. Maybe he should be irritated by it, the look on Andrew's face says he is, though Neil knows better. Andrew doesn't particularly like the feel of eyes trailing over his form, unless it's Neil doing it, but he does enjoy surprising people and seeing their shocked faces at watching the cats walk past is a source of great amusement for the goal keeper.   
  
When they step outside it takes a moment before it starts. Before cautious eyes and confused gazes slip over them and leave his skin crawling. Andrew however straightens to his not all that considerable height and stalks forward, King charging ahead of him like a huge war horse rather than a somewhat large fluffy black cat. The looks they get as he follows along slightly behind him range from bemused to completely blind sided. He's honestly not sure which thing is surprising the people around them more. If it's the sight of Andrew, piercings in his ears, black bands on his arms, dark clothing, all short but strong and walking a cat easily the size of a small dog. Or if it's simply them walking cats on leads just in general.   
  
He finds a tiny part of his tension draining away with the sure way Andrew walks down the street as though he owns it and walking his cat is nothing unusual. He and Sir follow quickly, easily catching up to him and Andrew reaches out. Pinky finger catching on Neil's, hazel eyes flick to the side to look at him. That silent question again. Neil locks his pinkie around Andrew's for a second before he takes his hand into his own and squeezes it hard. Andrew's grip is strong and sure and he feels more of that horrible feeling flowing out of him when those fingers slip between his own, linking their hands together properly. His hand is warm and a little rough and Andrew's thumb strokes against the back of his hand while the cats bound along on their walk quite happily.   
  
The change in scenery is already making that ache that had been building inside of him simply fade away. It's nice, calm and warm and with Andrew shooting a dark glare at anyone who looks too closely, or else flipping one or two middle fingers at them, it's strangely relaxing. And funny. Neil finds himself grinning a little more with every step and every sideways glance Andrew gives. The darker Andrew's scowl gets, the brighter Neil's smile grows. It's a good feeling and he relishes in the warm, fresh air, the steady feeling from Andrew's hand in his and the way people look at them like they are crazy. At least it keeps them away.  
  
Dealing with people is still not Neil's strong suit and this keeps all but the most determined away from them. He's glad because he just doesn't care to get to close to or make small talk with anyone who recognises them. And they do try sometimes, as though they don't realise sometimes you just wanna go out and grab a pint of ice cream for your husband and some fresh fruit for yourself without having to discuss Exy. Which he loves, he really does, but not with a complete stranger who doesn't even play and thinks they know more about HIS game than he does. Yeah no thanks, definitely not today.   
  
The sight of Andrew walking a cat that size of a medium dog is just as hilarious this time as it was the first time, even more so when they happen across a cat out on it's own solo walk and it takes offence to King's presence. She puffs herself up, hissing when the cat hisses at her and Andrew growls.   
  
“She's your cat,” Neil cheerfully informs him with a grin.   
  
He releases Neil's hand to flip him the middle finger this time and stalks away with a grunt, gently tugging King until she starts walking again. Sir gives a quick hiss, flicks her tail and trots ahead like she too owns the entire pavement. She either learned that from Andrew or from King, he's not quite sure which. But it's funny to watch her chubby body waddle away with her head held high, just like Andrew is.   
  
“Sir should probably go on a healthy eating plan you know,” Neil announces catching up to Andrew once more.   
  
The look Andrew gives him is half horrified, half irritated. “Are you trying to put our cat on a diet Neil?”   
  
“Yep! No more cat ice cream, not so many treats...” Sir mewls pathetically, possibly at the word treats, maybe at the ice cream part but Neil just shakes his head and says quietly, “Nope, none of that.”  
  
“You are a horrible cat owner and I am never trusting you with our animals again, leave me and Sir alone,” Andrew shoots back. He tugs the leash out of Neil's hand and strolls on ahead, with both cats leading the way.   
  
Neil folds his arms across his chest and quickens his pace to catch up, shooting sideways glances at Andrew every chance he gets. He can tell even though he didn't really want to go outside, that the fresh air, if it can even be called that, is doing him and the cats good and in turn doing him good as well.   
  
“I'm just saying that...” Neil begins to speak but is quickly cut off by a blunt comment from the side.  
  
“You know those are cats right? You're supposed to walk dogs on leashes.”   
  
Neil glances up, and up. The guy's easily as tall as Matt if not taller and has a shaved head and narrow green eyes. He looks kind of thuggish and he's glaring down at Sir and King as if their current predicament is somehow terrible instead of just being a walk.   
  
“Neil, why didn't you tell me? I thought they were Pomeranians,” Andrew dead pans, looking up at the guy.  
  
Neil laughs. “I didn't know I swear! The shelter told me they were!”  
  
The guy looks like he's just chewed a wasp. Or sucked a lemon. Maybe both, but he clearly dislikes being spoken to that way. Neil feels himself tense up at that and returns his unamused gaze with a glower of his own.   
  
“Got a big mouth on the pair of you even though you're fucking pint sized.”  
  
And oh shit, Andrew's about to punch someone, though honestly Neil can feel the urge to swing for him himself and it takes everything he has not to just go ahead and do that. “Yeah well it's what happens when you're so short, the rage has nowhere to go and it's all condensed. That's why we play Exy. You get to beat the shit out of people and it's sanctioned.”  
  
“We could do it unsanctioned if you'd prefer though,” Andrew drawls as an add on.  
  
The menace is practically radiating off him and Neil can't help but shoot him a brief glance, a slight grin. Most people don't get it and maybe Neil shouldn't even feel it, but it's quite attractive when Andrew gets like this. Neil kinda likes it. The flood of adrenaline, the violent fire raging in those hazel eyes, those heavy arms tensed in preparation. And then he flexes those arms and the guy seems to pause for a second. Andrew's arms are thick with muscle, big as this guy is, Neil is confident that Andrew could easily take him and the twisted smirk making it's way onto his lips seems to say that Andrew knows it too.  
  
“Get a fucking dog if you wanna walk something,” he mutters and shoves them both.  
  
Sir and King hiss and spit but then tug on their leashes, eager for the walk to continue, but Neil's mouth runs away from him as it so often does. Before he can even begin to think about it, he blurts out, “Maybe someone should put a leash on you! And a muzzle...”  
  
The guy twitches and turns and Neil finds both leashes shoved into his hands and Andrew stepping in front of him. “I keep telling you that mouth of yours will get you into trouble,” Andrew mutters, giving a quick glance over his shoulder.  
  
Neil finds himself wound up in the cats leashes as they twist and twine around him, begging for their walk to continue. He shrugs and shoots a wicked grin at the guy who's eyeing Andrew warily. “I can handle myself Andrew.”   
  
Andrew's response is simply a roll of his eyes and a twitch at the edges of his lips. “I know, but that doesn't mean you should start shit in the middle of the park.”   
  
Neil just snorts as the guy flicks his gaze between them, confused and annoyed before he takes a small step forward. Andrew twitches, arms folded across his chest, muscles flexing once more and the guy actually seems to pause. Neil thinks he should definitely take note, Andrew might be short but his upper body strength and his arms in particular, are impressive.   
  
“Hey,” he mutters, clearly disliking being ignored.   
  
Neil opens his mouth to speak once more but before he can, a feminine voice blurts out loudly. “Oh my god! You're Andrew Minyard!” and everything seems to stop.  
  
The guy blinks, eyes raking over Andrew as something like recognition seems to overcome him. He swallows, visibly and Neil feels a burst of smugness at the look now crossing his face. Understanding and maybe a little fear. Andrew can be pretty intimidating or so he's been told. He doesn't get it himself or well he sort of does he supposes, but everyone says it or acts like it and his reputation is, well, not the best.  
  
Andrew does a slow roll of his head to the side, ignoring the guy completely. Instead his hazel eyes are narrowed on the newcomer and the softest of sighs leaves his lips at the sight of her with a group of her friends in tow behind her. “No,” he says simply before just turning and walking away.  
  
Neil groans. “Uh...” He doesn't say more than that, just untwists himself from the cats and moves to turn away.   
  
“Fuck you both,” the guy mutters, throwing his hands up in the air and walking away, finally.   
  
“No thanks,” Neil shoots back, though he either doesn't hear him this time or wisely chooses to ignore him this time and doesn't come back.   
  
“But you're Neil Josten!” comes that voice again.   
  
Neil stops short and fights the urge to just run away or maybe slam his head into the nearest hard object. It's not like this is the first time they've been recognised and it definitely won't be the last, but he could have used well, none of this today. No arguments or almost fights and definitely not being recognised, he could have really used that. It would have been nice to just be them and the cats today.   
  
He looks at her. She's pretty enough he supposes with raven black hair and soulful brown eyes and her friends are making hopeful faces behind her, but Andrew's waiting and there isn't a thing in this world that could matter to him more. Well except Exy of course and the fluffy beings caught up around his feet and legs. But Andrew still always wins. Just.  
  
“Not today!” He says untangling the cats once more and tripping backwards. “Ask us again tomorrow!” He shoots her a half grin and turns to catch up to a bored looking Andrew who calmly holds his hand out for Kings leash. Neil hands it over and then frowns when he continues to hold his hand out still. He hands over Sir's leash as well and then Andrew's hand finally lowers.  
  
Andrew jerks his head forwards and Neil finally catches what it is he's wanting. “You still owe me a coffee.”  
  
Neil laughs. “Yep. See you in a sec then.”  
  
Andrew nods, points in the vague direction of a bench and then makes his way over there, the cats nosing at everything on the way there, slowing his progress down. Neil joins the queue to grab them both a coffee and just watches as Andrew patiently waits for them to sniff and explore everything to their hearts contents before he finally sits down on the bench. Looking calm and settled and apparently uninterested in anything except the cats. He watches as they pace around and chase some probably very confused and freaked out bugs. Or so he presumes.  
  


With their orders in hand a few minutes later, he makes his way to sit down beside Andrew and hands over the steaming drink. He pulls one leg up beneath him and slumps against the blonds side. Andrew glances briefly at him but doesn't say a word, just looks him up and down and then turns back to watch Sir roll around on the path like she's a pig in muck while King decides she wants attention.  
  
Neil reaches across Andrew's lap and scratches behind her ear. Andrew ignores them both, just sipping his hot drink and, scanning the scene around them with his usual apathetic gaze. Neil knows it's far more interested than it appears and he pulls his hand back from King's head much to her consternation. He smirks. She leaps up into Andrew's lap and flops as though she is nothing more than the tiny kitten she used to be. Andrew fixes her with a stern look but then turns his gaze away once more, already bored or just totally OK with her being there. Neil knows however that it's definitely the latter, with maybe a little of the former.   
  
Sir mewls and hops up beside him and settles down with her body curled up against his side. Neil sips at his black coffee and just lets the world slide by. Andrew's hand swings lazily in his direction, sugary drink held out in offering. Neil switches his own drink to his other hand, curls his fingers around Andrew's and pulls the cup to his lips. He splutters after taking a sip, shoving Andrew's arm away and grimaces, much to Andrew's eternal amusement.   
  
“Gross,” he complains.  
  
Andrew just smiles. But when he raises it to his own lips, King stands and plants her paws on his shoulders. She leans in to sniff at the cup, and Andrew holds perfectly still, letting her check it out to her hearts content. Neil slips his phone from his pocket and holds it up.   
  
“Smile.”  
  
Two sets of eyes, one warm and almost golden toned in the current light and the other vibrant green glance in his direction. King leans forward and boops Andrew's nose with her own just as he takes a sip of his drink. Neil snaps the picture quickly and sniggers at the way Andrew blinks at her. He taps out a quick title that consists of nothing more than the word ' _ **Boop!**_ ' and a small cat face emoji followed by a knife emoji and posts it to his Instagram, tagging Andrew's account once more.   
  
Andrew's hand, now devoid of drink reaches out and catches his wrist. He gives it a little squeeze, nothing hard just a silent command and Neil huffs but hands over the phone all the same. With one hand Andrew pets King who's now curled up in his lap once more and the other waves in Neil's direction as if he's supposed to know what it means. Luckily for them both, he's used to this and he knows that particular movement. With phone in hand it's Andrew's way of saying ' _Your turn._ '   
  
He scoops a confused and only slightly protesting Sir into his arms and holds her smushed against his face with a sharp grin. Andrew snaps a quick pic while Neil wiggles her paw slightly so it looks like she's waving at the screen and then tosses the phone into his lap. Neil let's Sir go, who immediately starts twisting and rolling in his lap, making it almost impossible to actually grab the phone. When he does though, he sees Andrew's Insta account has been logged in and the latest post is the shot of him and Sir, no title at all, there never is, but he's tagged Neil in it.   
  
He snorts, ignores the incoming flood of responses, switches back to his own account, ignores that too and turns his data off. When Sir settles, Neil moves to plant his hand in her fur but stops short by the faint tap of a finger against the back of his hand. Andrew's hand is resting on the bench, turned up expectantly and waiting and Neil doesn't disappoint. He places his hand in Andrew's and immediately rough fingers grip his tightly, thumb stroking idly over the skin where thumb and forefinger are joined.   
  
He sighs and tilts his head back, face vaguely turned towards the blond. Andrew shifts, the cool metal of his wedding ring smooth against Neil's flesh and his body angled towards him.   
  
He doesn't move, neither of them do until a soft voice yells out “Oh my god that's so cute! They have cats on a leash!”   
  
Two sets of eyes flash up to view the person speaking. It's just a passing group, a few girls and a couple of guys, all watching them curiously and a little strangely, but the girl who spoke is looking at King and Sir like they are mythical beings and it's just funny.  
  
Neil snorts, gives a faint shrug and at the dark glare on Andrew's face, gives his hand a hard squeeze. Andrew grumbles something under his breath but tilts his body more in Neil's direction and ignores them as he finishes his coffee. Neil ignores the group as they finally move on, the girl and one of the guys now babbling about the cats, occasionally pointing back at them and closes his eyes.   
  
“This was a good idea,” he states quietly.   
  
“I have a lot of them,” Andrew's reply is stoic and quiet.   
  
“You have some bad ones too.”   
  
Neil's glee is written on his face and Andrew cracks open an eye, squinting at him. “You for example.”  
  
The bland delivery of that simple sentence causes Neil to bark out a sharp laugh and shake his head. “I was the best one you ever had. You said that on our wedding night.”  
  
Andrew looks offended then and if looks could kill, well honestly Neil would have died long ago, but Andrew has never had that effect on him. So Neil just continues staring back at him and waits. It doesn't take long before it feels like his hand is crushed in a vice for a brief second before it goes back to a simple grip and that brush of his thumb against Neil's scarred skin.  
  
“You are the best worst mistake I ever made.” Andrew stops for a second, blinking at the bright light as he opens his eyes and nods down at the cats taking over both of their laps. “These two fluffy bastards were the second best one.”  
  
Neil's grin could split his face in half it feels like. “You like us.”  
  
“I hate you all,” Andrew shoots back, a call back to their old ways.  
  
There's such raw and honest affection laced into those words, if you know just where to look, that Neil knows it's utter bullshit and he enjoys that very much.   
  
“We like you too asshole.”  
  
Andrew says nothing for a second, just watches him as though he can finally figure out the puzzle that is Neil Josten, but then ultimately decides he's already done that or seems to and tugs their joined hands into his lap. The soft fur of King against his warm skin, the feel of Andrew's rough denim jeans, all superimposed with the feeling of his almost gentle hold eases something Neil didn't even know was there, and he breathes deeply. The last of the burning itch to move, to just leave the house finally drains completely out of him and is replaced by Andrew's rough brand of care and the warmth of two heavy cats resting against them both.  
  
Secretly, Neil knows that he helped Andrew and gave him something he hadn't gotten from anyone else ever, but he also knows the cats are the true greatest thing Andrew allowed himself to want, to have. The best worst idea he's had. Because they filled that tiny gap even Andrew hadn't know he'd had until it was already smoothed over to blend in with the rest of him and they gave them both something to focus on when speaking was too hard sometimes. They were the missing piece of everything they had.   
  
Sure nothing was perfect and sometimes they argued and sometimes the cats were assholes, but nothing would have felt quite so complete without them. Neil settles back against the bench, leans his head on Andrew's shoulder and when he's not shoved away and sighed at, beams and finally buries his free hand into Sir's fur. He relaxes and feels Andrew do the same beside him.   
  
Cat were the best idea both of them could have had and he wouldn't change this for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of Andrew and Neil walking Sir and King on leashes was the wonderful brain child of an awesome person over on Twitter and if you are reading this, THANK YOU! I don't quite know what happened in this chapter but they DO walk their cats on leashes so um enjoy?! and thanks again!

**Author's Note:**

> Title has basically nothing to do with the fic, it's just one of these songs that always makes me think of Andreil, something I was listening to from my Andreil playlist while I was writing this whole thing and I literally couldn't come up with a title for this one for some reason. Sooooo this happened. #SorryNotSorry!


End file.
